What We Want
by Eletha Landon
Summary: Because fear and the cold dark world brings them closer together, for they know that no matter what happens, the other will be at their side, holding their grip on sanity as if their own life depended on it. Two or Three part One-Shot. R
1. Chapter 1

**Story- What We Want…What We Need**

**Author- Alasyn of Crimson Amethyst**

**Genre- Hurt/Comfort/Romance**

**Characters- Chloe Saunders, Derek Souza**

**Summary- Because fear and the cold dark world brings them closer together, for they know that no matter what happens, the other will be at their side, holding their grip on sanity as if their own life depended on it. **

**Type- Original, Powers. One-shot**

**Rated: T**

**Dedication- To Chlereklover because she felt as if we all needed a bit more Chlerek in our lives. This isn't like _Love and War_ though, and I'm fitting back into my angst style for this one. Still, there will be hurt/ comfort and definite Chlerek. Hope you enjoy this one KenzieDarling!**

**Author's Note- It's not like no one has done this before, setting up a different way for Chloe and Derek to get together, but that's the general idea. It's set in The Reckoning before anything critical happens. The night that Andrew gives Chloe that sleeping medicine to be exact… only it doesn't work too well… or does it? ;) Will have two or three parts.**

**.- Thanks to everyone who reviewed for the last chapter of _Rumored to be True_, and there will be a second part to _Love and War!_**

**Warning- This bounces between characters, because this couldn't be written without both Derek or Chloe's POV in first person.**

**Also, join the commission guys on facebook! Find Lauren and I on our page, titled Alasyn Lauren.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer- Again… I don't own anything… But a girl can dream. **

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**What We Want…What We Need**

_I'm scared, uncertain and alone... so, so alone._

_**Chloe**_

I tossed from one side, lying there for a few agonizingly long moments before flipping to the next, finding each new position less comfortable than the last. Finally, with a heavy, deflating sigh, I rolled onto my back, staring absently at the stained, off- white ceiling, finding more images than the ceiling actually held. It was supposed to be nothing but a wall of solid white, but I saw black. I saw a movie screen. I saw what my brain projected on that wall. And I saw ghosts.

The sleeping medicine that Andrew had given me before was not working and another night was being wasted on my reckless, movie- making imagination. I felt drowsy and I tried to sleep. God knows I tried. But every time I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of unconsciousness push against my worries and concerns about what was outside in the surrounding forest, let alone the ghost I encountered earlier in this house, images of deformed, disembodied corpses pulling themselves from their graves had my eyes snapping open, flitting across the room for any sight of damage caused by my uncontrolled powers.

I grit my teeth and fisted my fingers into my sheets. For God's sake, I needed to learn how to get past this, how to face my demons- no pun intended- because this was my life. Seeing ghosts, raising the dead. Taking sleeping pills to more or less drunken myself to sleep will not help me escape what I can do _in my sleep_. It was a way out. A cheat.

But I wasn't in school anymore. Or safe away in my father's condo where cheating and finding any possible way out was cowardly. I was in reality, where it was about surviving. And as Derek had so encouragingly and bluntly put before, toughing it out wasn't going to impress anyone and it wouldn't do any good to my health. Even Derek, strong, smart Derek needed his cheat when he was, for lack of a better word, scared. I don't think he would choose to go through a Change without me now.

Unfortunately, though, my cop-out wasn't working. And I knew that even if it was, there was still the chance of me raising something out there, or summoning Royce- note that summoning a poltergeist who is potentially pissed at you is not the best thing to do when practically drugged to sleep. Especially when you might be so out of it that you won't even feel him bashing you're skull in with-

I groaned just thinking about it and knew I wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon.

Taking more advice from Derek, which seemed to be working wonders for me so far tonight, I threw off my covers and slipped my feet to the floor, promptly sliding my way out of bed. He had told me that if something like this happened again- more like seeing something that actually spooked me- I should wake him and not stupidly rough out my problems by myself. So that's what I was going to do.

It was actually odd thinking about it. How he had demanded that I inform him in case something happened; in case I saw or raised something. Sure, Derek and I were friends now, or what I considered our acquaintanceship to be anyways. But a couple weeks ago, if I had imagined Derek this concerned about my well-being, I would have tossed my head back with a laugh and questioned my own sanity. Before, I would have thought that he would grumble something about 'bothering him with my problems,' and 'why don't you ask Simon?' But now, I couldn't even imagine not telling Derek, or telling someone else for the matter; even Simon. I couldn't even imagine not wanting to talk to Derek about it, nor him not wanting to come to me about his Changes.

Doing a complete 180 in my head, I shook away the direction my thoughts were going. They seemed to be drifting into some undefinable, but tangibly dangerous, unknown territory that I wasn't too sure I was ready to explore. I thought of Derek and I as friends, but I knew deep down that there was something else about it. Something deeper. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

I was in front of Simon and Derek's door then, having padded across the hall while lost in my complicated thoughts. Suddenly, a sense of nervousness squirmed inside my gut as I stood there, willing myself to call out to Derek as loud as I dared as to not wake anyone else up. But nervous for what reason, I wasn't sure. Nervous about angering him for waking him up, though I doubted he would be. No, that wasn't really it. In fact, I rather him loom over me right now instead of being alone. Nervous that I knew that he slept in only his boxers and that waking him up meant... yeah... yeah that might be part of it.

Nevertheless, I quietly cleared my throat and noisily shifted my weight on the old floor boards, hoping that he would hear. When I didn't hear anything in response I tried calling his name.

Nothing.

"Derek," I questioned, turning the knob silently and peeking into the room he shared with his brother. Simon was there, sprawled across his stomach and snoring softly. I quickly passed over him and found Derek's bed empty, sheets strewn in disarray as if he had been as restless as I was in my own bed. Analyzing this thought more my heart skipped a beat from concern and idled disappointment.

Was he Changing? Had he gone out without me?

_He told you that he would come get you if he was Changing, Chloe. You know he would. _

Yeah, but...?

A creak in the hall abruptly caught my attention and I whipped around, heart flying against my rib cage. I peered into the dark, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. Derek was out of bed, but he didn't make a lot of noise- surprising for such a sturdy guy, not so surprising for an instinctual werewolf.

So what? A noise in the hall; that was normal in a house this old. The thing was that, for a house this old, the halls and rooms were _so_ extremely quiet. I used to think- being the movie- maker at heart that I am- that houses that made noise had something going on inside. I knew better than that now and knew that if a house made noise, it was undisturbed, much like a forest. However, a quiet forest meant that there was something going on, something that noise itself was trying to hide from. And, much like a forest, a quiet house was a house that knew that something was wrong.

"Derek?" I whispered, desperately hoping that I was acting paranoid. No answer.

Stealing myself from just cowardly crawling back into my bed, I crept forward into the hall. I had come out here for a reason. If Derek was already awake, then half of my work was already done for me. I really did want to talk to him, tell him my concerns, have him do that thing where he sincerely tries to reassure me, tell me that we will be okay, that we will figure things out, say we ten more times because it sounded so good, so safe, so...

And that was enough of that. I squelched the unsettling flutters in my chest and cleared my mind by taking in a deep breath through my nose, allowing the bitter cold air in the house to drug my senses until I was sure that I was thinking sanely again. Finishing my calming attempt, which wasn't doing much good for me, I decided that the first place to look would be the kitchen.

Unfortunately, when I finally ventured through the swinging door, there was no sign that Derek had been there recently. I checked the dining room, the living room, the first floor rooms, and I was sure that he wasn't in the upstairs bathroom.

That left the roof or the forest.

_He probably just went for a run. He couldn't sleep, so he decided to exhaust himself. There is no reason to believe that he went out and Changed._

I still fought to stifle the wave of hurt when I approached the backdoor and found it unlocked. I sighed heavily and reached for the handle, feeling as if there really was no going back now. Now that I had myself all freaked about a quiet house with no Derek inside of it that is.

"Don't..." A voice whispered from beside me and I whirled around for the second time tonight. I frantically scanned the room finding nothing. It was so quiet that I could hear my own blood rushing in my ears as well as a faint ringing.

"H-Hello?" I cursed the cliche. A frightened heroin, sputtering out a call to her potential killer...

_Stop it. Ghosts can't hurt you._

Yeah, but they can scare me.

_You should be the one scaring them. You're the necromancer._

I was right of course; I was the necromancer. _I_ had the power over them, not the other way around. And if this was just Royce coming back for me, then he had another thing coming. Who knows where I sent him last time. I'm sure that if I concentrate hard enough, I can send him somewhere specific. Somewhere he really wouldn't like going.

"I know you're there, Royce," I seethed, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. It helped that I was actually getting a little pissed off with this ghost. I carefully scanned the room again, not even catching a flicker. But I was less looking for him as much as I was looking for something to suddenly rocket at my head. When nothing moved, I figured that he was gone. So I turned to the door again, while opening it in the same motion and stepped outside.

A sharp, heavy wind instantly hit me and I first realized how under dressed I was. A black tank top and a pair of Tori's small- very small and very tight- sleeping shorts, considering I didn't have much to my name anymore. She flippantly lent them to me when she noticed that I was about to crawl into bed in my jeans.

"Jesus, Chloe. You need to let yourself breathe down there you know," she snapped, while tossing her shorts at me. I felt my cheeks heat and looked at the shorts skeptically.

How can anything breathe in these?

Now I wished I had kept my jeans. I was lucky to have grabbed my thin jacket before leaving my room, and there wasn't any way I was going all the way back up to my room now just to cover myself up a little. The wind wasn't freezing because it was late spring. But the smell that wafted through it was something to be concerned about. Moist and earthy. I looked up at the dark sky to see the stars blanketed in thick, navy clouds.

Rain.

I shrugged to myself. I would find Derek first. Of course he would- not so politely- usher me back inside seeing what I was wearing in this weather, but at least he would come back with me. At least I wouldn't have to come back alone.

"Derek," I called out, still keeping my voice low. I was still too close to the house to start yelling. I would wake someone. The only answer was the ruffle and swaying of the forest in protest of the intruding wind. Compared to the house, the forest sounded more content and less troubled, so I ambled down the path, weaving my way into the first few trees.

"Derek," I tried louder this time.

"Don't…"

I yelped, my own voice and the wind drowning out the whisper that sounded in my ear. Again. Turning, I looked around, agitation building inside me.

They were following me. _He_ was following me.

I could feel it, like the tickle I felt inside the house, the anxiety bubbling up in my chest, seizing my lungs. I felt a slight zing whip through my temple and winced, cold enveloping me- having nothing to do with the wind- and spread goose bumps down my arms and legs.

"Don't be a coward," I said, grateful that my voice didn't break. "Face me."

There wasn't a sound or a movement for a moment. But I could _feel_ something there. Fading and unfading. Like A.M. radio.

"Can't…"

I scowled.

"I'm not going to stand here and let you patronize me, Royce."

I turned on my heel and pushed deeper into the woods, trying to make as much noise as possible so that Derek would hear me.

Whatever was there, it followed.

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, the throb against my temple picked up its tempo and I winced. The more I tried to ignore it, the harder and more painful it became.

"Stop…" came the whisper. I ignored it, the chill running through my veins intensified. I was starting to feel other things too, not just the one ghost. Not just other spirits. But there were definitely _other_ things out here.

"Going… far… stop…" the voice behind the whisper was indefinable, but I was starting to get the feeling that it wasn't Royce.

"Who are you," I questioned, coming to stop in a tiny break in the trees. I turned to where I could sense them, but I still saw nothing.

I heard nothing.

"Hello?"

Nothing; I could feel them fading and concern swelled in my throat. I tried concentrating on him, it, whatever it was, and pulled. Gently of course. There was too much out here to be reckless about summoning. I could summon something without intention; something that might not be too friendly.

"...enough..." the ghost breathed into my ear and I shuddered. Not enough? Obviously I wasn't giving it enough, or else I would have heard everything the spirit was trying to tell me. I took a deep breath in from my nose and released it from my mouth, gathering my bearings. I closed my eyes and put a little juice into it this time.

I felt it fade again, so I ramped it up another notch, drops of perspiration starting to form on my brow. But I kept losing my grip on it, again and again the sense of something there would grow stronger, then dim into almost nothing. I pulled harder. Nothing. Not a whisper. I pulled until I finally passed the warning bells in my head that told me that I was taking it too far, throwing everything I had into the summon and-

"No, baby, stop!"

My eyes snapped open and the air in my lungs escaped me in a hard gasp, as if something had just hit me in the stomach, hard. That voice again. That name again. That seizing feeling in my chest again. So loud. So clear. So familiar.

"M-Mom?"

Breathing heavily, I looked around, desperately searching for her. I was so sure. Before, when I had heard her with Simon and Tori, I wasn't sure, but I knew now. Baby. She had called me baby. Her voice, I had thought it was aunt Lauren; they sounded alike, looked alike even. But I knew it wasn't.

And I wanted to see her.

"Mom?"

I turned slowly, scanning with the limited eye sight that I had in the dark. I felt the first few drops of rain hit my cheeks, but I didn't care. I wanted- needed... it's been so, so long and-

I yelped and jumped back, having done a 180 and came face to face with a woman. For a second, my heart faltered in its frantic rhythm and stopped all together, thinking that I was looking into the blue eyes of my mother.

This woman was not my mother.

Her blue eyes were darker and wide with disbelief and curiosity as they traveled over my body. Like the woman at the graveyard earlier, the first one I had summoned with Margaret. She looked to be in her early forties, blonde hair graying at the roots. Her clothes screamed the 90's, meaning she had died about a decade ago.

"W-Were you t-the one speaking to me a-a moment ago," I asked, faining off the sadness of not finding my mother instead. The woman's eyes jumped to mine, focusing, questioning.

"No. I'm not too sure how I got here just now. Are you the reason for this, girl?" Her voice didn't match the whispers nor did it match my mother's. And I knew for certain I had heard my mom. So where had she gone?

"Y-Yes. I'm s-sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Girl!" A voice bellowed from behind me and I spun around, meeting the stride of a tall, scrappy man, with mop-like brown hair. His hazel eyes bore into mine so intensely that I shivered, uncomfortable under his gaze.

"You brought me here," he asked.

"Yes. I didn't m-mean-"

"You're one of them then. A necromancer?"

"Y-Yes," I stuttered, taking a step back, unsettled by the way he looked at me, surveyed me. He moved closer, eyes reflecting that he was curious and wanted something.

"I've been looking for someone like you for a long time," he whispered hoarsely.

"You think you're the only one," the woman snapped and stepped in front of the man. He ignored her, gaze still intent on me. "She summoned me first. First come, first serve." This caught the man's attention and he sneered at the woman.

"No such thing when you're dead, lady."

Another figure materialized beside the two ghosts. A younger man, lighter hair. He looked from the two ghosts to me in confusion. Then he focused more on me and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by another ghost popping up before him. A man older than the first two put together. Meatier too, with a large round face and an ugly grimace.

"What the hell is going on here," he shouted, his voice so deep and loud that I winced, the sound vibrating through my already throbbing skull.

"I'd like to ask the same question," a woman of about the same age said as she turned up beside him. A small girl fazed into form behind her and looked around with large blue eyes, fear apparent on her features.

"Where a-am I?"

"What is this?" Another ghost appeared. I spun frantically to escape but was greeted by another.

"What's going on?" I pivoted passed the ghosts, only to be blocked by more.

"Girl. Why am I here?"

"What are you? How can you see us?"

"A necromancer! I've heard about them." I shied away from their swarming figures.

"You can help me! You must help!"

"Yes. I need you're help too!" Panic started to boil inside of me, spreading through my veins like wildfire.

"I was here first!"

"You're so strong, so powerful for such a small girl."

"You're so bright. You must be able to help me." I desperately squirmed away from their reaching hands.

"Help me!"

"Help!"

"Help!"

"Help-"

I squeezed my eyes shut and aimlessly pushed against their spirits as hard as I could. I tried to block them out, to concentrate, to calm my speeding heart and erratic breathing. But I could still hear them.

"Help me girl!"

"I need you to-"

"Can you find my-"

"Tell my parents-"

"Help me find-"

"He killed me-"

"I slipped and-"

"I couldn't wake up-"

"Help me-"

"Help-"

"Help-"

I didn't dare open my eyes, but it didn't help that I could still see them behind my eyelids. They were closing in around me, I could feel them. Wave after freezing wave boggled my senses and the hammering against my temple only effected my concentration so much more. They were close, whispering, moaning, shouting. They were touching me, falling through me. I desperately shoved against their advances, their cries, their pleas. But it wasn't working, I couldn't think.

My breath was ragged, my heart was pounding so hard against my ribs that it hurt. My body was trembling, freezing. All I could smell, instead of the rain that was steadily adding to the cold touches that passed through me was death. All I could feel was their souls mingling and rushing through me. All I could hear were their cries for help. All I could think of was how insanely claustrophobic I felt. I couldn't breathe.

Someone screamed.

Someone hissed.

Someone shrieked.

All so close, the sounds rippling through me. Handicapping me. I could barely hear my own voice; small, frail, begging. Telling them to leave me alone, back up, stop screaming, quiet down, get away, stop, please, stop, stop, stop!

I wanted to call for my own help. I couldn't handle this. Not alone. I was scared, terrified. I was shaking. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

And I felt so, so alone.

If my mother was still here, I couldn't hear her, couldn't _feel_ her as I did before. There was nothing she could do anyways. I've lived so long without her that her re-occurrence has left me overjoyed and heartbroken at the same time.

My aunt, whether she was still at the lab, held prisoner or- oh, God- if she was dead, she couldn't help me either. Our connection was a distant memory. Her attempt to be a motherly figure in my life was instantly demolished by the fact that I didn't have that life anymore. I wasn't even sure if I was the Chloe she would remember anymore. I could never understand the decisions she has made out of love for me. And at the same time, she would never understand _this_. This being what I had to live with now.

My old friends had jumped out of the picture the minute I ran my school's halls screaming like a maniac, sputtering about what I could see that no one else could. My father didn't know anything. He didn't know about my powers, or the Edison Group. He was so insanely clueless about everything- not even considering the fact that he didn't even know _me_ before that me had changed- that he thought one of my housemates had kidnapped me and put a half a million on my head. I couldn't call him though. I couldn't talk to him. Not only would it endanger me, but him as well. And calling him now would require an explanation. As much as I wanted to reassure him that I was alright, I couldn't.

Andrew was an adult who was capable of helping and at the same time completely incapable of anything. He didn't know me and I didn't know him. I trusted him because Simon and Derek trusted him and that was it.

My relationship with Tori was a complicated mess and I was sure that if she had somewhere to go she would have been gone a long time ago. Hell, she even attempted to get back to her normal life but wound up stuck with us.

There was Simon. Yes, he cared about me. But I was slowly coming to realize more and more that I didn't want his help or his reassurances. I didn't want him to constantly make me feel better. I didn't want to talk to him about what I saw, about what I could do with my powers. I didn't want to concern him with my problems that I should be able to handle myself. Maybe it was because he was so willing that I didn't want to burden him. But I think it was more because I knew he could never understand. Not on the level that I selfishly desired from someone else.

This would only prove to _him_ how stupid and reckless he thought I was though. His feelings towards me were still so unclear. He was such a contradiction around me that I wound up feeling whip-lashed. One minute he's bearing down on me, the next he's telling me everything will be okay, that we will figure things out. If I didn't know any better I would have myself convinced that he couldn't stand me. And even if it were true I couldn't deny that he made me feel significant and vital to our band of misfits. I couldn't hide that I felt less alone when he was around. And above anyone else, right now, I needed him for that.

I opened my eyes, planning on searching out an escape, but the sight that greeted me rooted my feet to the forest floor. The blood running through my veins ran completely cold to the near point of freezing. Bile slithered its way to my throat, my stomach churned unbearably.

Like the first ghost who put me into this mess, the janitor from my old school, the ghosts were in the forms and depictions of their deaths.

A woman shrieked, her throat slashed open. A man released a guttural sound, his face and intangible flesh melting off his skeleton. A boy cried, half his body mangled and deformed. A woman choked, flailing and spazzing. A girl screamed, gashes ripping across her arms and collar bone.

I staggered back, choking against a sudden wave of nausea. I lost my footing and fell through even more horrors. I scrambled away, shutting my eyes again, but the images remained, scarred into my memory. Their pleas and tortured cries got louder, the sound stabbing repeatedly at my skull. It was too much, I couldn't push them away. I couldn't handle this.

Knowing this, something inside me snapped and I screamed.

I couldn't hear myself over them, but I could feel the strain on my lungs, the desperate race of my heart, the swimming incoherentness of my brain.

I cried and screamed and called for the one person I needed now more than anyone. The one person I _wanted_ now more than anyone.

I screamed for Derek.

**To be continued...**

**Make me happy? You guys know what I like. ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note-**

**Hey guys! Miss me? I won't apologize, I won't stammer excuses. Simply, life is hitting me now, and it's hitting hard. So I will warn.**

**I promise that I am sticking around, I do have One-Shots that need to be written. But I will be sporadic.**

**Please understand and wish me luck. I'm taking a big step towards my life that is just around the corner.**

**Post Script: I have come to the realization that Chloe hasn't been to the graveyard yet or discovered Royce's name before the chapter where Andrew gives her the medicine in the real book. My bad, just pretend it had then. :) **

**Enjoy :)**

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_Animalistic... a lonely burden when faced by something you want but can't have._

_**Derek**_

The silence was interrupted and I stopped in my trek back to the house. I cocked my head and listened, straining my ears against the pattering rhythm of the rain. Against my better judgment, I was hoping that I hadn't imagined the faint, muffled sound off in the forest. I _itched_ for something to be out here, hence the very reason I was out here.

My unsettled instincts since our escape from Lyle house- well, since our actual stay in Lyle house or since the very night Simon's and my dad vanished- has increased nearly tenfold since Andrew recovered us from his cottage and brought us to this house. Being here and in what the adults guaranteed to be safety didn't feel safe. Not to me. I felt on edge, unable to detect immediate danger, but hyperaware of the danger nonetheless. Pack safety came first. Always had and always will. Now that my pack was threatened, I wasn't going to be able to rest as easily as would be deemed particularly healthy until that threat was eliminated. Even this temporary escape had lost my trust and it was only our second night.

Though, if I made the decision to run- no doubt that Simon and Chloe would wholeheartedly agree, seeing as though none of us were all that thrilled of Andrew and the other's decisions towards actions against the Edison group- where would we go? Hit the streets again, warily turning corners, stretching the availability and organization of our provisions, vainly researching libraries and casting Simon's tracking spell that warranted a bust in the first place, sleeping in abandoned alleys and shops, risking each other's safety with each step? Yeah, that sounded like a decent plan. And where would that get us in our quest to find and rescue Rae and Chloe's aunt; if they were both still alive?

What we had here were resources and a roof over our heads. And yet I was too damned paranoid to see that playing this out and resting up, gathering as much of our own information as possible was for the best. Simon needed it, Chloe needed it... I needed it. We were going to milk this as long as I dared, and then we would figure something out. For now, Chloe and Simon's comfort, health and safety were more important than my sanity.

So, I shook my head, casting aside my anxiety and unease. I could easily chalk up the desire for hallucinations and taking action to the oncoming Change. I knew it was close. The itching, the fever, the actual sick feeling that robbed my body- my muscles of comfort. That was only the first few stages. Soon enough my senses would go wild, enhancing to a peak, fighting and struggling to break their human limitations. Then the Change would commence.

However, while I still longed to get this Change over with- the pain was nearly unbearable and frightening to think of- I willed for it to push out as long as possible. I wasn't sure I could stand going through another partial Change. Knowing that the Edison group had tampered with my genetics was bad enough. But wondering- painfully- that what they had done could possibly prevent me from ever fully Changing was maddening.

But, honestly, how was I supposed to know? I was only raised to understand that I was different, that I could never expect to act or feel entirely human. I've accepted that. But I was never fully briefed on how to go about becoming a wolf, how to endure the Change and how it was supposed to go. Was it normal to have these partial Changes? Was it normal to start so young? What about the dreams? What about my humanity if I ever fully Changed? Where would it go? Would I be myself?

I couldn't depict between what was normal and what was not. Dad always told me what was to be expected and what was known to be average. He'd done his best to prepare me, knowing that I thrived on the facts and logic. The Change was expected to be painful. Obvious. My senses were expected to be advanced. Apparent. My body was expected to be built in a predatory manner, evolution playing its roll, ensuring that my world was survival of the fittest and programming me to be just that- fit. Typical.

But what the hell was I supposed to do or understand when 'modifications' were thrown into the mix? I didn't know the tendencies and statistics of normal werewolves; therefore, I couldn't compare myself or what I was going through. And that left me anxious, confused and terrified.

However, I was aware that I wasn't alone in this and the very _idea_ was enough to keep me sane. Though, the reality was the greatest comfort and I knew that was more than I would ever feel if it was my dad at my side or Simon... and not Chloe.

Chloe had come to be a constant in my life, a necessity. Whether I was openly willing to admit that or not, I was painstakingly aware as to how much Chloe's presence meant to me during my Changes, or any other time for the matter. She was fairly grounded, level headed if not selfless to the point of naivety and caring beyond anyone I had ever come across in my entire life.

There was no way to even begin to describe Chloe and how... _attached_ I was to her. It had never been like this at first, but even now I had all but forgotten what it was Chloe meant to me back then before that fact was devoured by what she meant to me now. I wasn't just obligated to protecting her anymore because she was the pawn in getting Simon to jump to action. I was indescribably concerned and wary of her wellbeing, because I knew that if she wasn't okay than I wouldn't be able to forgive myself and I wasn't okay. If something happened to Chloe I'd lose the grip I had on my sanity, something I was sure had been lost when I actually _believed_ that I belonged in Lyle house. Chloe changed that. It took a while to realize this, but once I finally did, I knew that Chloe wasn't just someone I needed in order to protect Simon. She was someone I needed, period.

The wolf inside of me felt as if this meant that she was mine to claim- or ours for the matter. I needed her, therefore the wolf wanted her.

Unfortunately, she was already Simon's. The wolf was nice enough to point out that this was my own fault, because I've lately come to discover that I didn't like Simon's possession of Chloe. At all.

I was merely putting this animalistically. Of course Chloe wasn't a piece of territory or property. She was free to choose her own suitor and I respected that. But I also knew that Chloe would never choose me over Simon.

It was obvious that Chloe had mutual feelings for Simon and that only made sense. Simon was the more prudent choice. Charming, good- looking, bright, easy- going. He was nice. He was a gentleman. What girl wouldn't swoon over that? Obviously, none. Even Tori- I shuddered just thinking about how awkwardly that girl threw herself at Simon, for once making her seem like every other girl I had been honored to witness drooling all over my brother. Though, this was all aside from the point.

I wasn't like Simon. I'm sure I couldn't be charming even if I tried. I was smart, but more to the point of being a freak genius. I wasn't all that great- looking. Sure, the puberty was ebbing, something I was sure to be an effect of the Changes, but better skin and softer hair wouldn't even put me in the same league as Simon.

I was big, angry, brooding, ignorant, clueless, confused, scared, helpless, weak, nervous... I was a mess.

That didn't mean that I couldn't feel something for Chloe. It sure as hell meant that it would hurt to see her with Simon, but I knew that I could live with her being happy and well- cared for. As cheesy and cliché as it might be, all that was important was that Chloe was happy, and with Simon, I could see that she was and will be.

I was constantly making these resolves with myself, but, that didn't keep me from worrying about her. Even now I was wondering if she was doing alright. Was she asleep? Had the medicine Andrew had given her worked or...?

Though Chloe took being a necromancer in stride- she definitely handled it better than I had given her credit for- she still couldn't completely hide how much her powers affected her. She wasn't like Simon or Tori. She wasn't gifted. Powerful, yes, but hardly gifted. No.

Chloe was cursed.

She may not see it that way, but in reality, being a bridge between dimensions, let alone between the living and the dead was taxing. Taxing and dangerous. A combination that was toxic and could not mix well with Chloe. She was too true, too pure and too innocent to be dealt what she had been in life. She was brave. She could take care of herself. But I didn't want her to handle being a necromancer on her own.

Not to mention... Chloe was also genetically modified.

Deciding to check on her was the final push I needed to get myself back to the house. But before I could resume trudging through the slop the rain had created along the path, I heard something that rooted my feet to the ground.

This time, I _wanted_ it to be my imagination.

"Derek!" Again. Same cry. Same voice. That same sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach if not my heart plummeting from my chest. My lungs constricted, my muscles tensed, my mind went blank, listening.

"Derek!" Chloe shrieked and I whirled, throwing myself in the direction of her voice as instinct overwhelmed all possible thought and logic.

I couldn't smell her out and, with the rain coming even harder now than before, her voice was instantly lost. Unable to use my senses to my advantage was frustrating. Panic and anxiety bubbled and churned in a sickening manner in my gut. My heart raced, my mind whirred. Frantically I searched, straining and listening, catching a muffled cry here and a sob there. The process was slow. I would remain still until I was sure I had a direction, advance towards the noise, then stop and listen again.

Somewhere deep down, where reason and question now suffocated, I wondered what the hell she was doing out here. Why hadn't I heard her? She seemed to be a ways off but still. I was so engrossed in searching for _something_ that I should have noticed her.

"Derek!" Chloe wailed, tone desperate and dripping with fear. And with each cry, the anger ebbed. There would be time to give her shit later, because there wouldn't be anyone to loom over if she wasn't safe. I pushed aside the hostility, the rage, the idea that Chloe might be hurting and focused more on actually finding her. That seemed to ease the frustration and my own fear for her while I let the wolf side of me take care of the task at hand. Being half animal, I couldn't focus when wired around human limitations such as emotions instead of gut feeling. I had to let it go. I had to let the wolf take charge.

And when I did, following Chloe's voice was easier. It was the way I found her that brought back all those simmering emotions, because simply putting them on the back burner didn't entirely rid me of them. Being torn in half was severely aggravating and exhausting, which made me wonder if that was normal for a werewolf because, again, I had no clue.

I saw a break in the trees where I could hear her muffled sobs. She really wasn't any louder than the rain, but the more I focused on her voice the louder she became.

"P-P-Please, l-l-leave m-me alone- g-get away, p-please."

She said my name again, calling for me, but fainter than before. It was so quiet, so desperate and yet the pleading in her tone suggested that she was slowly losing the hope of getting my attention. I followed the sound of her, attempting in vain to swallow the swelling of my throat, the drying of my mouth. With each passing second a wave of panic washed over me and I _prayed_ that, whatever was happening, whatever was going on, that I got to her in time.

I finally entered the break, bounding into an opening that was nothing compared to the clearing Chloe and I had found for my last Change at the truck stop. I froze in my tracks, barely free of the forest when the aura of the space hit me, settling against my body like a blanketed weight.

Death.

I couldn't smell it and I couldn't taste the bile taste of decomposition, but I could feel it. My skin crawled and I knew the rain had nothing to do with the drop in temperature. I could have sworn that stepping back into the dense woods would feel like hiking through a tropical forest compared to this.

Whatever was here, it was dead- death itself it seemed like- and it was big.

I flashed my gaze around, looking for Chloe but also scanning for something that didn't fit. I couldn't hear, see or smell whatever _it_ was, but that didn't mean that _it_ wasn't here.

My eyes finally landed on Chloe, huddled against a tree nearly twenty feet away. Her small body was curled in a ball, knees pulled up against her chest, palms clasped firmly against her ears, fingers roughly tangled into her fake, dripping black hair, nails digging relentlessly into her temples. Even from where I stood I could see that she was shaking, trembling like a leaf. Her eyes were closed, her face was tight as if she was in pain and horror masked her features. If she was crying I couldn't tell by betraying tears. She was soaked to the bone, her skin pale and her exposed legs and neck were covered in goosebumps.

She whimpered, mumbling and sobbing, most pleas coming out incoherent. With each ragged, uneven and quick breath, a puff of condensation escaped her mouth, creating a fog before it vanished. Her lips were turning an unhealthy shade of purple.

She winced, gasped a helpless, "N-No, s-stay away," and cried even harder, sobs racking her tiny frame. Fog billowed with each word, with each struggled breath.

I couldn't see my own breath. The canopy of the trees protected me from the bite of the rain and should have done the same for Chloe. But I knew it wasn't the weather that caused her to shake, or to pale so unnaturally. And the storm didn't call for this frigid air.

For a moment, I couldn't move. All I could do was stare, willing my eyes to see the threat so that I could feel less... helpless. What was I supposed to do? What _could_ I do? Something was hurting Chloe and there was no way for me to eliminate it. I was useless. Rendered useless by my inability to help her, to save and protect her. And she was suffering.

Seeing her suffer, this, _this_ right here knocked some sense into me, making me realize just how good I really have it. All my bitching and internal self loathing, thinking and believing that I would never deserve to be truly understood and happy because of the fact that I was dangerous, that I was a monster. Sure, my dad and Simon were enough. My gratitude towards them was incorruptible. But I could never deny the fact that I felt alone, isolated even with them at my side, watching my back, being my family. I never really noticed how feeling this way pushed against the good life that I have, the good that I was capable of receiving. Not until now. Not until I saw just how bad things were for someone else- for Chloe.

She lost her mother when she was six. Her father was never around, but notably worried enough when Chloe disappeared to put a half a million on her head. Her aunt had betrayed her in more ways than one, jumping from side to side, switching so unexpectedly that it would cause an emotional earthquake to anyone. And now Chloe was nearly convinced that her aunt was dead, the only real family she had left, good or bad. She was stuck with Tori, who could not be trusted and was hurricane of emotions all on her own. She was forced to follow the orders of a man she did not know, waiting while she worried and feared for the life of a confused friend she had left behind at the lab. I couldn't say I made her life any easier by jumping on her every mishap, chewing her out for getting herself into trouble when she was smarter than that- even now I wanted to tower over her and demand to know what the hell she was thinking and what she had gotten herself into.

On top of everything, Chloe was barely a two- week experienced necromancer, topping the cake by the fact that her genes were also tampered with.

For two weeks I watched her put up a brave front. For Simon, maybe. For the group, definitely. For me, oh absolutely- partially out of her own stubborn pride, but mostly to make less trouble for me than she already believed I had. But I think that it was mostly for herself. I knew she didn't want to lose herself and I knew that she didn't want to be scared. Because of this I had always seen her as something solid. Someone who could handle a little more than the others.

That didn't make her better of course. If anything, her acceptance was part of her selflessness.

I had seen Chloe spooked. I had seen Chloe startled. Confused, scared, uncertain.

But I had never seen her broken.

"D-Derek, please..." she hiccuped, her words trailing into more strangled, frighten cries. But her voice ripped me from my thoughts, forcing me back into the reality.

Something just seemed to click then. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to do _something._ She was calling, asking for me. She needed me. _Me_.

I raced forward, legs moving on their own accord, brain spinning on ways to calm her down, knowing too well that Chloe's necromancy was out of control if she couldn't concentrate. I had seen it in the crawlspace and with the homeless corpse and, connecting two and two together; I could see that Chloe's crumbled focus was caused by her fear of what was harassing her. A spirit, obviously, but something too big for her to handle, where normally, if it were a lone, weak ghost, she could.

I crouched before her, fingers instinctively wrapping around her wrists, attempting to softly pry her hands from her head.

"Chloe," I whispered tentatively, hesitantly, not wanting to startle her anymore than she already was. However, this seemed to have been a mistake.

"No!" Chloe screamed, eyes squeezing tighter. She ripped her hand from my grasp and pulled back against the tree, as if she could melt right through the bark.

"Chloe," I said, sharper this time, reaching once again. She kicked, foot making contact against my ribs. I bit back a growl, advancing fingers clasping against her forearm, attempting to keep her from flailing and thrashing. She screamed and wrenched herself back.

"Stop! S-Stay a-away!"

"Chloe," I snarled, lunging forward and taking a firm hold of both her arms and giving her a quick, rough shake.

"No. n-no. R-Release. L-Leave-" Chloe sputtered, her words mashing together, her eyes still shut.

Release? Leave?

She thought she had raised something, that I was the corpse.

"It's me. Chloe, it's me," I chanted quietly. She shook her head and whimpered, writhing against my hold. I shook her again.

"Chloe, look at me," I growled.

Her eyes shot open wide and unfocussed, blue and horrified. She stopped fighting, taking a split second to take me in, to realize it was me in front of her and not a raised corpse.

"Derek," she rasped out, her voice making me wince. I tried to compose myself, not let the concern and panic show on my face. I don't think I was doing a very good job because her eyes flicked away from me, beyond me, and they yawned wider.

"O-Oh my G-God," she breathed, her breath spilling out into the air, wafting across my face like ice. Absolute terror washed off of her in waves. If it were possible, her shudders racked through her even harder.

"No, Chloe. Look at me," I said, cursing myself for letting my voice crack, but feigning to keep calm. She continued to stare through me as if she hadn't heard. Her breathing was close to a speed of hyperventilation.

"Look at me," I growled again, understanding how the familiarity of it to her caught her attention and pulled her back to me. Her giant blue orbs snapped back to mine, begging, pleading.

"You need to calm down," I said lowly, not trusting my own voice anymore. "Concentrate so you can push it back."

"N-No-"

"Chloe," I drew out her name, voice still low.

"I-I c-can't. T-There's too many-" she cut of, wincing. She bowed her head and whimpered.

I stared at her, lost. Too many? What did she mean by-

"P-Please," Chloe sobbed. "M-Make them g-go away. Make t-them stop."

"_You_ have to banish them, Chloe. They won't leave until you do. Concentrate."

"I t-tried-"

"You have to try harder," I said, lightly tightening my grip on her arms. "Just look at me and relax." I pulled out all the reassuring, meaningless nothings she had ever whispered to me while I went through my Changes and murmured them back, ushering her to calm down, letting her know that I was there and that she was going to be okay, that she could do this.

Slowly, her breathing became less ragged, less forced. I could hear her racing heart, focused intently on how it began to quiet and slow. I rubbed her arms, whispering, comforting in a way that felt so natural I was surprised by my own actions because they were so foreign. Chloe kept my gaze, her shaking reducing to minor shudders, the puffs of her breath getting smaller and smaller.

Every few seconds she would crack and her eyes would see past me, widening, heart beat picking up, condensation growing denser.

"It's okay."

"Don't pay any attention to them, Chloe."

"They can't hurt you."

"I'm right here."

Finally, she closed her eyes and took one deep shuddering breath. Her rigid posture slumped as she continued to breathe evenly. I moved closer, taking note that her shivering wasn't because of the ghosts anymore. Where I was barely affected by the rain, Chloe was soaked, her cloths and hair clinging to her sickly pale skin.

I could tell she was releasing the spirits as I continued to move my hands up and down her arms, still murmuring encouragements and telling her to keep going. I could see it in the slight twitch in her brow as she concentrated, the crease over the bridge of her nose and the hard line of her lips. And the aura receded; death itself slipping away, a more reasonable temperature taking its place.

After a moment, Chloe relaxed, body falling completely slack as she panted, more now from excursion than fear. She continued to shudder and I knew that I needed to get her out of this rain. The ghosts were gone- how ever many there were- and Chloe was safe. Now I needed to get her back into the house before she made herself sick.

"Chloe," I said quietly, attempting to grab her attention. She opened her eyes, but something about her gaze seemed off. Her blue orbs were fogged and distant, and they remained half- lidded. I ducked my head to her level, trying to catch her eye, but she wasn't looking at me. She wasn't looking at anything. Just staring, as if she were nodding off to sleep.

"Chloe?"

Panic zinged through me when she didn't answer. Was she going into shock? How much did the banishing take out of her? What the hell was going on? Question after question, but that wasn't getting me anywhere. I wasn't going to be able to find the answers out here, where Chloe was at the risk of hurting herself even more.

I pulled Chloe into me, hooking the grip of one hand beneath her knees and settling the other hand firmly against her back. She limply leaned against me as I lifted her off the icy ground, her gaze still far away, as if she weren't even here anymore. I suppressed a wince.

To me, Chloe was extremely light. Fragile even. Barely a hundred pounds felt like lifting a hardcover book. A werewolf thing. If it had been Simon carrying her, I'm sure he would have struggled.

It took me until now to realize just how deep Chloe had gotten herself lost into the woods. Which, again, brought a wave of disdain over me, because for some damn reason, I just couldn't get over how angry I was with her for getting herself into this mess in the first place. It still didn't matter. As much as I wanted to lay into her, give her shit for not being cautious and aimlessly walking into what obviously seemed to be a trap built specifically for a necromancer, I didn't know the whole story. I had no right to be furious with her decision- one I believed to be stupid even if she could justify it- when I had no idea what was really decided. However, that fact never stopped me before, from bearing down on her that is. I always found myself hounding her, because I was just so angry when I found her in danger, and I didn't even give her a chance to plead her case. Even with the graveyard… she could have said no, and she had admitted that, but that didn't stop me from considering that she had been careless. I knew she hadn't. I believe she knew better than that. And I wasn't even really angry with her. I was just angry with the fact that the even had put her under an even bigger spotlight than before. Which is saying something considering there is a half a million dollars on her head.

I found the trail back to the house easily and was trudging through the backyard in a matter of minutes. The rain was heavier in the open, so I tucked Chloe into my chest and loped towards the backdoor. Sure enough, Chloe had left it unlocked just as I had and I slipped through quietly. I didn't want to wake anyone. Not yet.

If I needed Andrew I would get him. For now, I needed to tend to Chloe on my own. A sudden bustle and intrusion of space that the others were sure to give her would possible startle her all over again, though I couldn't say for certain, but I wasn't going to risk it.

I silently crept up the stairs and took Chloe to the parlor, the room farthest away from the bedrooms. I promptly set her on the couch, sitting her on the end and went to check the radiator. The damn thing was barely working and I growled. I hurried into the hall and went to the linen closet. I riffled through it briefly and came out with a towel and a few blankets.

Chloe was exactly where I left her, though I had hardly left her for half a minute. But she remained still nonetheless and that worried me. She was staring at the floor, same look, same distant aura. She looked even paler in the light than she did in the dark of the forest, her skin appearing to be clammy with a mixture of moisture from the rain and sweat. Her eyes were rimmed in red and almost bloodshot. Her lips were still that dangerous shade of purple.

I debated with the blankets. They really weren't going to be enough. Not with Chloe still clad in her sopping wet clothes. I tossed the blankets onto the armchair and hurried from the room, not wanting to leave Chloe for longer than I had to.

I decided to just get something from my own room. Chloe shared with Tori and it would go over just fantastically if she woke and found me rifling through what little clothes Chloe had. Then I would have to explain myself and she would only get in the way. Besides, Simon was a heavy sleeper. It would just be easier to slip past him and more efficient to shuffle through my own, familiar clothes.

I came up with a dark sweatshirt, which was relatively cleaner than everything else I had. It had originally been Chloe's after I had tossed my- werewolf- blood stained jacket, but was still large enough to fit me snugly. And it was warm.

It wasn't till I was back in the parlor, approaching Chloe with the garment when I realized just what I was about to do.

She had to get out of her clothes. She really did or she wouldn't get better. They were wet and useless, but that was my only justification for having to- I swallowed, hard.

I would be lying if I hadn't noticed before how little Chloe was actually wearing. She sat with her legs pushing together, the creamy skin of her thighs producing from extremely short, black shorts, exposed to the world. Her dripping jacket was sliding off her shoulder, her arms falling free of the clinging fabric only to reveal a dark tank top underneath. I didn't think of Chloe this way, or at least I tried not to. Sure, the wolf part of me liked his fantasies and he definitely had his moments of making me really- _really_- uncomfortable around her. But I wasn't constantly ogling Chloe for her body. She wasn't conservative but she wasn't revealing either, except for now of course, but I admired Chloe more for her selfless bravery than how the only jeans she now possessed hugged her just ri-

I grumbled and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and shoving back the thoughts created by the wolf's imagination. Calming myself seemed to be a lost cause, because every time I opened my eyes to assess the situation of Chloe still in her wet clothes, the wolf snarled something lowly, almost in a hiss.

_Mine._

I growled in frustration, silencing the wolf as best as I could by settling into my reoccurring anger with Chloe. I grabbed for her jacket first, seeing as though it was already sliding off of her, and pulled her from the confines. I tossed it towards the door, deciding to take care of her wet clothes later. I fingered the hem of her shirt next, but froze.

Even for Chloe's health, I just didn't feel right doing this. For all I knew, Chloe was going to shock, and here I was, about to undress her and most likely see everything- as hard as I would try not to see anything- and I felt as if I was taking advantage of her. It would have helped exponentially if I knew she was wearing something underneath, but by the way her tank top fit her, I knew that she wasn't.

"Oh, for the love of-"

I hastily rolled up the sweatshirt and pushed it over Chloe's head. I slipped her arm from the sleeve of her shirt and gently pulled it through the sleeve of my sweatshirt, repeating the process with her other arm. I quickly yanked the mass of fabric over her chest and stomach, then tugged at the hem of her shirt again, slipping it from beneath its replacement and down her legs before chucking it across the room along with her jacket. I did this all without exposing anymore skin than I had already seen.

I gave her shorts one last look and bit back my disdain. I wasn't going to remove those and it would be her own damn fault if she caught a cold because of it. I just flat out refused to do it.

I stood and fled the room, picking up her discarded clothes and using the excuse to find her some food and sugar to get as far away from her as possible as fast as possible.

With a frustrated huff and the internal will to tame the flame in my cheeks I realized that Chloe was going to be the death of me one day. As annoying as I thought it was at the moment, deep down I knew I would always want it to be that way.

_What a way to die._

**To be continued...**

**Damn, This took two whole weeks to write. I feel so bad for making you guys wait so long that I am whipping out a quick, short and sweet Chlerek One-Shot. It's called _Work it Out_ and I'm posting it after this!**

**Review please, you know how I love them. And answer this question. Should the last piece for this shot be in Chloe or Derek's POV?**

**Make me happy, especially during my pre-grad stressed times. :)**

**Loves! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note-**

**Okay, so I HAD to get this out before I went on vacation. So, yes, I am going on vacation for about 10 days, and I'm sad to say that I'm going to let go in that time. No school, no college preparation- I'm- scared- out- of- my- mind- to- graduate- stress, and no writing. Unless , of course, I'm struck with sudden inspiration, I will take notes. But you guys might not hear from me for about a month. In that time, head on over to my profile and vote for what you guys want in my returning One-Shot! **

**Chlerek Lemon (Uh- I'll try.)**

**Scene from the Awakening at the restaurant DPOV (Starring me as the server!)**

**R.t.b.T. One-Shot Series: Derek comes back from college with a surprise!**

**I'll most likely be writing all of these in the future, the last one is a dedication to Lauren, but pick which one you guys want first!**

**I give you guys the last installment to this One-Shot. Though, it's more of a Three-Shot. :/ **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Why do things like this have to be so damn difficult..._

**_Chloe_**

I couldn't... _think_. I just couldn't comprehend, as if my brain had checked out, like I couldn't process anything at the moment.

It was like some sort of out of body experience, but I was all too aware as to what was happening with my body. I could feel myself trembling and breathing heavily, the rhythm of my own labors lulling me into this state.

In. Out. In. Out.

I could hear Derek, his voice distant, far off. He was calling for me, beckoning me. I tried to call back, but no words came out. I couldn't figure out how to speak or how to look at him.

I couldn't figure out anything.

However, I was aware of him lifting me, vaguely, and the drifting movement at which he carried me was as if he was rocking my figure back and forth, tempting me with the comfort and shelter of unconsciousness. I wanted to give in. I really did. But something was keeping me awake. Something telling me to stay.

So I fought against every fiber of my being, every nerve and cell that desired sleep. I resisted.

I could have moaned in relief once I felt the warm air of the house. Of course, I didn't, my brain hadn't clicked into functioning mode yet, and I was able to note that I was still freezing. It wasn't really the _house_ that felt warm. It was a mixture. Being out of that clearing, held in the arms of someone I knew to be my protector, and under a roof seemed to be enough to pacify my shudders of fear and weakness.

I could barely remember Derek setting me on the couch in the parlor. He disappeared for a moment, but not long enough for my brain- or my heart- to register panic. He came back within a few second, a bundle of multi-colored fabrics in arms. He looked at me, then down at the blankets in his arms, then grumbled something unintelligible, then tossed them onto the armchair and left the room again. Like before, it wasn't long. I wasn't really sure as to what he was doing; then again, I wasn't really sure of anything. My brain felt muddled, concealed by a tight film.

Even when I felt him tugging at my clothes, deep down I knew this should trigger some sort of concern, but, at the same time, I didn't feel the need to be frightened. I trusted Derek, who was part of the reason I stayed awake. I could understand this much. If I fell asleep, Derek would lose it.

I suddenly felt ten times warmer. The heat caused my body to react in a fit of shivers. Pleasurable shivers. My nose caught a whiff of something. Bitter, earthy... musky, like the forest. A safe forest; nothing like the deathly hollows that had nearly swallowed me whole. It was intoxicating. Without really knowing, I was positive that I _knew_ that smell. The bite of it flamed through my nostrils, jump-starting my senses, kicking my brain into gear.

The clearing came rushing back to me and I tensed. Without them being there, I could see the ghosts again. Pleading, crying, screaming... begging me for my help, surrounding me, suffocating me. My breath picked up in an all too familiar tempo, I frantically searched the room, looking, feeling for any spiritual- something. I shivered, finding nothing, but remembering how their deaths, their souls washed through me, leaving my body as cold as ice. My breath billowed out in a puff of fog, saluting me as the last remnants of warmth left my body along with it, my own spirit following-

I gasped and struggling, sucking in air and I could taste-

The smell filled me again, this time, the weight of it sliding across my tongue and washing through my throat, like piping hot apple cider. I could taste it- _him_. His scent lingered so strongly around me that it heated my insides and made my mouth water. Barely, the after-shock of tonight's events began to fade as _he_ took its place. It wasn't enough though. I needed more.

I wanted more.

I turned towards the other side of the couch, expecting to see Derek there, watching me. I wanted to collapse against him and greedily breathe in his comforting, animal- like scent until I was free from the curse of death. I wanted to take hold of him and never let go. I wanted to know that I was safe. I wanted to feel it. And Derek was the only one who could make me feel that way. I couldn't deny that anymore.

Only, he wasn't there. I looked through the room again, this time searching for Derek and not the ghosts. They were gone. Derek had helped me get rid of them. But Derek wasn't there either.

He had left for the third time and, this time, I did panic.

"D-Derek," I called, voice shaking. I didn't realize until after I yelled that the others could possibly still be asleep and, frankly, I didn't want any of them around at the moment. Being in the state that I was, I don't think I could handle that. So I called quieter this time, knowing that, if he was still in the house, he would hear me.

I waited for a few seconds, then decided to get up and find him myself. But, as soon as I stood, the room swayed and my knees buckled from beneath me. The walls blurred and my stomach clenched, holding back an uneasy queasiness. Then, I saw the floor coming up to meet me.

"Damn it, Chloe," I vaguely heard a growl, then an arm slid around me, keeping me from falling, before pulling me back up then gently pushing me back down onto the couch. I caught a fuzzy glimpse of Derek, his free hand balancing a plastic cup and an apple while he placed me back into my spot.

"D-Derek-"

"Drink this," he interrupted, shoving the glass towards me. I was still too dizzy to see exactly what it was he was holding out to me and I stared at it, unsure. Derek sighed.

"Chloe, this will make you feel better."

When I still hesitated Derek knelt down in front of me and lifted the glass closer to my face.

"I-I'm okay, I-I don't n-n-" The tip of the cup touched my lips, the warm liquid inside instantly ran across my taste buds and down my throat. I gasped, but swallowed, seeing as how it tasted and felt so good.

Hot milk and honey.

Derek grabbed my wrist and lifted my hand to replace his on the cup. I took it and greedily drank its contents, down to the last drop. It burnt my tongue and hurt my throat, but still felt so damn good going down.

"Slow down, Chloe," Derek rumbled. I could see better now and there was a slight twitch of his lips as he said this. He watched me, though, studied me, as if waiting for something to go wrong. And I didn't blame him. I could see the worry in his eyes, an untamed storm in the green sea of his orbs. The concern, the anxiety. But I also saw something foreign and completely dominant.

Pure relief.

I lowered my cup and met his gaze. The smell- his smell from before was nothing compared to him actually before me at this very moment. It was almost addicting, alluring, mesmerizing. I know I've noticed this smell before, but then, I was too far in denial to actually name what it was I was doing when faced with it, causing my senses and heart to go wild.

I was admiring.

Derek reached over to the armchair, retrieving the blankets he had grabbed earlier. I was left unfazed. I watched him curiously, all fears and previous horrors removed from my mind and nearly forgotten. Still on his knees in front of me, Derek unfolded one blanket, then promptly threw it around me, laying it against my back and shoulders. Then, he took a towel that was lost in the pile and tossed it atop my head.

I remained still, hypnotized again but in an entirely different way. My heart felt like it was ready to leap from my chest; I nearly forgot how to breathe properly. He was just so close, right there, his scent lingering, warm breath wafting across my face, hands softly running through my hair as he dried it with the towel. I had forgotten that I had been wet and I didn't care.

His eyes met mine again, slipping away from his work and I could only imagine the mess he saw in front of him. Maybe more like a deer stunned by approaching headlights, but I was too far gone to care or even be embarrassed by the fact that I was staring at him. Just him. His eyes, his high cheek bones, his slightly crooked nose, his lips. His lips that parted and released his addicting warm breath, tickling my neck and cheeks, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with the dead. The relief still lingered in his eyes, but there was something else. Curiosity and something that made my heart slam on the brakes. His brows bunched together as if whatever he was thinking caused him pain and I wilted, somehow thinking that if I could get closer- because our proximity suddenly wasn't enough- I could make that pain go away. But it wasn't me who was moving closer to him; the opposite actually.

Derek released the towel and it fell to the couch behind me. He dropped his hand, fingers skimming over the length of my arm as he did so. I shuddered. His other hand remained tangled in the nest of matted knots at the base of my neck, using his grip to pull my face closer to his. My breath hitched and I kept his gaze locked with mine, attempting to decipher all the contradicting emotions that made Derek. The smell overwhelmed me, making the room spin again as he inched closer and closer. I was about to close my eyes when Derek slowed to a stop, our noses centimeters from touching. I met his eyes again, questioning. But he didn't seem to be looking at me anymore. He seemed to stare right through me, lost in his own thoughts, almost as if he was debating something I assumed by the quirk in his brow.

I waited, as patiently as I could might I add. I didn't want him to stop, I didn't want him to think. I just wanted him to do exactly what he had been about to do. I needed for him to do it. To confirm how I thought I felt. To prove that this wasn't as crazy as I had chalked it up to be in the past couple of days.

I needed Derek to feel the same way I felt.

I watched as the curiosity slowly died, along with the want I had only hoped- God, I hoped- I had correctly detected in his gaze. Instead, his eyes stormed with something all too familiar and just as mood-killing.

I was in trouble.

"What the hell were you thinking, Chloe," Derek breathed. It didn't matter if he had whispered it or shouted it; it still cut through me just the same. I released the tension on my lungs, a breath I hadn't been aware of holding. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of that want in Derek's eyes return, flaring back with a vengeance, but it was gone so fast I might as well have imagined it.

I opened my mouth to answer but Derek interrupted me, moving back so fast I almost pouted like a small child because of the distance it caused between us. For a second, the walls between Derek and I were down, now, all the kings horses and all the kings men had put them back together again. All barely in a blink of an eye.

"We agreed that we would check things out later. _We_; meaning you don't go off into the woods by yourself. We don't know what's out there-"

"That's why you were out there, right? Scouting the forest for something; a threat," I put in, wanting to get something else off my mind first.

"Course. But I'm the guy with the super senses, remember? I'm actually fit for the job-"

"You weren't Changing then," I interjected again. Derek blinked.

"What? No, I wasn't Changing. Stop changing the subject, Chloe-" Derek started, again trying to get on my case about being in the forest and seemingly getting more frustrated by the minute considering he was now speaking in his low, 'I'm-really-pissed-off,' voice. I stopped him before he could go any farther.

"I'm not changing the subject, Derek. I couldn't sleep. The medicine Andrew gave me wasn't working and I got myself all worked up about the house being too quiet. I figured, after the last time you chewed me out-"

"I didn't chew you out," Derek defended. I gave him a look.

"Either way, I decided to- well, since you practically demanded that I do so, I was going to go and get you." I said this with heated cheeks and shifted my gaze away. "When you weren't in your room, I panicked. I thought that-"

"You thought I was Changing," Derek finished for me. When I nodded he looked away, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "With the ghosts, I thought you had-"

"Tried summoning?" This time I finished for him. I shook my head, then stopped. "Well, I wasn't. Not at first."

Derek's eyes snapped back to mine, that anger and accusation flaring up again. How easy it was for him to bring up negative emotions instead of the more vital- and definitely more confusing- ones.

"What," he snapped.

"I was looking for you. I figured you would hear me, or, if you were Changing, I would hear you. But, s-something followed me. I-I was ignoring it a-at first. They were t-trying to w-warn me a-about something and I thought it w-was that k-kid, Royce. But something was t-telling me that it wasn't Royce. So I tried pulling them t-through."

"Chloe, you know better than that. You know how dangerous-" Derek stopped, jaw flexing. "Why don't you ever listen? You think I just hound you all the time because I enjoy it?"

"I-"

"You think I actually like getting on your case whenever you do something reckless? That I do it just for kicks-"

"It was my mom," I blurted. Right now, I didn't have the energy to stand up and face Derek like I usually did. I was used to taking his shit. I could handle it. Usually. Right now, I didn't even have enough control to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall as everything came rushing back to me. Not just the ghosts, but the bit with my mom too.

I didn't dare look up at Derek as I admitted this.

"I knew it was her and- I-I wanted- I thought that I-" I stopped. I heard Derek shuffle across the room, keeping uncharacteristically quiet since my outburst.

"Chloe-"

"It doesn't matter," I snapped. He was right. Out of selfishness, I had done something reckless, stupid. And if not for him, who knows what would have happened to me out there.

"It was stupid. She tried to warn me, but once I started pulling her through, it was like I opened this entire gateway. Ghost after ghost. They were asking me for help. Pleading with me because I could hear them. They were begging and crying and s-scream-" I paused and took a deep breath as an effort to calm myself. Tears were falling freely and all I wanted to do was take Derek's hand, pull him onto the couch with me, curl up against him and listen as he muttered sweet nothings, telling me everything was going to be okay. I wanted to say nothing and spill everything I had felt tonight all at the same time, but I couldn't do that unless it was Derek who was listening. I couldn't beat around this anymore. I needed Derek. I wanted him.

But, I highly doubted it was the same the other way around. Sure, we had almost shared a moment. But here Derek was, my rescuer, my protector, someone who, at brief instances, I believed to care for me more than he actually lets on, and he was looming over me again. Getting on my case- in his own words- as I, once again, stupidly put myself in danger. Which tested his limits in his obligation to protect me, and that put everyone in danger.

This realization was like a smack to the face.

"God," I breathed, staring at the cup in my hands. "I'm so... useless." I said this so quietly even I had a hard time hearing it. But I didn't doubt that Derek heard it.

"Chloe- you should-" he paused, sounding as if he was fighting for the right words to say. I permitted myself to look up at him, and that pained expression was there again. Was I really such a burden? Not just to the others, but to him? Taking Derek in, I could see that he looked worn, exhausted. As if he had wasted too many nights on just thinking and analyzing- and worrying. Was I really so troublesome as to cause him the pain he seemed to be in now?

I wished that I could blame everything on the apparent approaching Change, but I knew better.

"About what happened," Derek started again, anxiously rubbing the back of his head, unsure I guess. I braced for the explosion. I wouldn't fight back. I deserved it. As un-Derek-like as he was approaching this, I still knew what was coming.

"You should- I don't think you should hold it in, um-"

_What?_

"Wait," I blanched, confused.

"What," Derek asked, dropping his arm, giving me an expectant and almost pleading look. Like he was hoping I would automatically understand and finish what it is he was about to propose. The thing was that... I had no idea where this entire thing went. Somewhere since I snapped out of my miniscule coma and my confession, the direction of the conversation- confrontation- took a U-turn.

"Where's the yelling?"

"What yelling," Derek asked, feigning innocence.

"The scolding. The, 'bad, Chloe. You know better,' spiel. You had a great start just a moment ago. What happ-"

"Don't even test me, Chloe," Derek snapped, green eyes flashing. "You acted against your own instinct tonight, against warnings that you believe to have been sent by your mother. But you already validated that what you did was reckless and I know that you get it. I'm not your parent. I don't need to, nor do I like to lecture you. You've learned you're lesson. But what I'm saying is that the way you learned it was unfair and unjust-"

"Might as well have learned by some Edison Group guard snatching me up then, huh? Might seem more fair."

Derek growled and I closed my mouth. For a moment, we stared at each other. For me, I was just trying to convey the message that I didn't mean to be such a dead weight, though it was particularly useless because I was. I just didn't want Derek to believe it or think that way of me. As for Derek- God, I only wished I could understand what was going through that severely complex brain of his, because I had no idea. Especially as I watched the anger dim from his eyes, filling with that ever present pain that toyed with my thudding heart. Finally, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Look, Chloe. With the ghosts, what they did tonight and your mom... all I'm suggesting is that you talk to someone about it. Like that girl at the truck stop and the man you saw in the warehouse. Keeping that bottled up-" He shook his head and looked away from me, eyes scanning the room. Nervous again. He was such a rollercoaster. Half the time his contradictions left me speechless, whiplashed.

"You can tell m-" he began again and I watched him, wide eyed, heart racing, mouth going dry. I wanted him to say it, as if it was his way of accepting me, of confirming what I can only hope at this point. That Derek cared about me, liked me. That he needed and wanted me just as bad as I did him.

"-Simon." My heart tripped midstide and Derek turned back to me, features impassive. I exhaled sharply, disappointed.

"You're serious," I whispered. Derek nodded.

"You can tell Simon. He'll want to know. He worries about you, you know-"

"God, Derek," I choked out, bowing my head, pushing against tears that threatened again.

"What," he started, sounding confused.

"The world doesn't revolve around Simon, okay?"

Talk to Simon. Simon's waiting. Simon will want to help.

I jumped up from the couch and strode to the door and I could sense Derek on my heals.

"Chloe, what-" I whipped around and he haulted, nearly barreling over me. I glared up at him through blurry vision.

"It's not always about Simon," I barked. "So stop trying to push me towards him all the time, because I'm tired of it. I don't want it." Again, I turned and raced down the stairs, the image of Derek's perplexed and shocked eyes imprinted on my brain. I knew I left him in some sort of stupor, but it didn't take long for him to snap out of it and come after me again. By then, I was nearly at the front door. I threw it open and plunged outside, not even sure of where I was going but knew that I wanted to get away. I was tired of being a burden, tired of being manipulated and disappointed.

However, I knew very well I wouldn't get far.

"Chloe what are you- what did I- Chloe stop!" Derek growled after stumbling through his apparent confusion. God, why didn't he get it?

He grabbed my elbow and spun me to face him. I couldn't look up at him- even if I wanted to- without getting pelted by the large drops of rain that were once again drenching us. I had made it as far as a few steps onto the front lawn after all. Either way, I merely settled fro glaring at his chest.

"I thought you liked Simon," Derek struggled, as if uncomfortable announcing it. His grip tightened slightly on my elbow and I felt myself being pulled closer to him, his way of keeping me from getting soaked again. Damn him. Why was he able to do this? Yell, then comfort, then disappoint, then yell and comfort again. Derek was only human- at least I was one of few who believed this wholeheartedly- but for God's sake-

"You like Simon, don't you," Derek said when I didn't answer him from before. But I ignored him and squirmed, attempting to get out of his grasp, to make some distance between us, because his smell was overwhelming me again and all I wanted to do was hug him and cry. At the same time, I didn't want to.

"Chloe," Derek warned, not having any of it.

"Of course I like Simon," I finally snapped, pulling from his hold harder, leaning away from him. "I just don't-" I stopped. How could I tell him when I just barely and slowly came to the realization myself. How could I possibly tell him that there was someone else?

"Don't what, Chloe- stop struggling," he added harshly.

"Maybe I'd stop struggling if you'd let go of me," I spat back.

"No," Derek said with a note of finality that only upset me more. After a moment he said, quietly, "Don't what, Chloe-"

"I don't want Simon, okay?" I blurted without even thinking. I was just angry and sad and tired and I- I don't know what happened. That desire to confide in Derek overpowered me again and I couldn't hold it back. I just gave up. I gave up the struggle. "I like Simon, but I don't like him anymore than a friend should. He's not what I want."

I could feel Derek's gaze on me but I refused to see for myself. I wanted to tell myself that I was still mad at him, but that was just more denial. In reality, I was humiliated. I humiliated for having these feelings, for being confused, for being out of control, for acting like a child. I didn't even want to know what Derek thought of me now. I knew I shouldn't care, but I did.

"Then-" Derek breathed, I tensed, waiting for rejection or more yelling. I was surprisingly hoping for the latter. "Then, what do you want, Chloe?"

I sucked in a deep breath. He knew, there was no other explanation for my behavior, but he wanted me to say it. Why? So I could embarrass myself even more? So I could just confirm, create an opportunity for closure by giving Derek the chance to say something along the lines of, 'Sorry, I don't like you that way,' just as I had done towards Simon?

What more did I have to lose?

"I need someone I can talk to. Someone who understands. I _want_ someone who can put me in my place." I looked up at him then, the rain tickled my cheeks. But I didn't care, I was too busy concentrating on his eyes. Green eyes swimming with uncertainty, confusion... even more pain. I knew that he was aware of exactly what I wanted, because he was the very person I needed who would understand.

"I want you, Derek." His brows bent and he continued to stare at me, as if he hadn't heard me or didn't understand, couldn't comprehend. He knew the truth, but he didn't seem to believe it. He wanted to believe it, I could see that, but he looked to be as if he tried so hard not to. What did he think I was going to do? Burst out laughing and say, 'Yeah, just kidding!' He had to know me better than that now.

"I-" I started, trying to think of what else I could say, something that would convince him, relieve him even. "It's not the same talking to Simon. I want to talk to you. I want you to be the one waiting for me and worrying about me and-"

"Chloe," Derek whispered. I waited, expectant. He searched my gaze, still trying to find the answer to a difficult analysis. For God's sake, I just put it on a silver platter for him.

I opened my mouth to point that out, that I wasn't joking around, that I was being completely and wholeheartedly serious, but Derek stopped me. He spoke first.

"Chloe I- I can't-" he said quietly, eyes never leaving mine but storming up more agony and hurt. I felt my chest seize and I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream and cry. I wanted to- God I don't even know. But I wanted to be anywhere but here.

I looked away from him, the rain blending in with my tears. I struggled out a fake, shaky laugh and shrugged, trying to pass it as no big deal, like the old me would have done. The thing was that, with Derek, I wasn't the old me anymore. So the effort came out forced.

"Just- Just forget it," I managed, refusing to look at Derek, making an effort to circle around him and get back into the house, to escape whatever hell I just stepped into tonight.

"No, Chloe I-"

"Forget it," I blurted over my shoulder. But he didn't. He didn't let it go. He did the one thing I wasn't expecting him to do.

He called to me again, he took hold of my shoulder and spun me so fast the forest around us blurred. And then, I didn't even have time to focus before Derek came down on me and I felt his lips mash against my own.

At first, I would be embarrassed to admit, that I faltered and squeaked. But I was caught completely off guard and the actions were justified. Nonetheless, Derek instantly pulled away, looking as if he regretted it and I just could even understand why he made things so difficult on himself anymore. He just wasn't fair, he never took care of himself. Always careful. Always worrying. I couldn't take it anymore. I just wanted him to give in already, give up and for once take what it was he wanted before I wondered, once again, what the hell it was he _did_ want.

"Chloe, I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

"Shut up," I hissed, fingering the front of his shirt and pulling him down to meet me again.

We came together slower this time, testing, because I knew I was sure and I was giving Derek time to be sure. Thankfully, it didn't take that long. Derek didn't squeak and squirm like I had, which made me feel even more silly about the action but honestly, in the moment, I didn't care. Derek reacted, his hands sliding from my shoulders, over my shoulder blades and to my waist, then gently pulled my body to curve into his. His lips parted against mine and my brain checked out, unable to feel, smell, or taste anything but him. Derek dipped his head meeting me halfway as I stood on my toes, his mouth moving securely and tenderly against mine, his lips speaking to me, telling me that he was sure and that he wanted me too. For how long, I didn't know, nor did I care. Because the way Derek kissed me, I could just tell that I was what he needed too, and I kissed Derek back the same way.

Because he was what_ I_ wanted, what _I_ needed and that was all that mattered.

**Okay, there it is. I'm not too satisfied with how it ended, however, this is what came out and I wanted to update before I left. If I see it fit, I'll make an alternative ending when I come back and alert you guys of the change. So? Let me know what you guys think! Review please and vote on my poll.**

**Later!**


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